More patients ask about the sternal scar

than ask how well the heart will likely beat,

when those with cardiac dysfunction are

approached for operation. Vain conceit

- the tendency or preference to care

about how one will look instead of be - 

infects our culture with its subtle snare, 

an epidemic co-morbidity. 

Like Pharisees, we spend our lives consumed

with trying to seem flawless, while inside

decay and rottenness remain entombed - 

a mask of beauty thinly veiling pride.

Alive in spirit, Lord, I want to be

less prone to superficiality. 

​

More patients ask about the sternal scar

"Give me the suture or this man will die!"

the television surgeon sharply barks;

of course, the camera angles then supply

a shot of skin without incision marks. 

Pretending to save lives to entertain

is not an act of criminal design,

but those with sacred work will rarely strain

to decorate a duty as a shrine.

Good ministers do not produce a show,

or render empty words in a charade;

they offer wayward souls a way to know

salvation beyond needle, tie, and blade.

​

Instead of drama, Lord, give me a cause

more helpful to me patients than the gauze. 

"Give me the suture or this man will die!"

My chief complaint, good doctor, is this ache

that settled in the middle of my chest;

it bothers me whenever I'm awake

and keeps me from a decent night of rest.

I hoped, at first, the feeling would subside

with time, or else i could endure the pain,

but with the constant suffering inside,

I must find some relief, or go insane. 

What say you, doc? Can you perceive the cause

of my affliction and its therapy?

I'd like to think my own conclusion draws

the features all together fittingly:

These symptoms are a loneliness attack,

I simply need my wife and children back!

My chief complaint, good doctor, is this ache

Ah, wisdom, who can woo you as a bride

and dwell with you, a treasure more than gold?
Who can draw near your riches, come beside

your loveliness, or have your hand to hold?
You seem far off from man, aloof and shy,

and not content to leave the Father's house;

unless He gives your hand to them, men die
in vain pursuits to win you as a spouse.
Can anyone search for you, then, with hope?

Yes, he who fears the Lord can court His prize,

and bliss begun, by humbleness elope

to live at ease, fulfilled and growing wise. 

​

In Christ I claim, O Lord, a princely life

and yearn to know the glories of my wife!

Ah, wisdom, who can woo you as a bride